


Sinful

by LilMissFerret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Shame, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMissFerret/pseuds/LilMissFerret
Summary: Since entering the Wizarding World at eleven, people have set out to make Hermione Granger feel dirty. She never thought her best friend, her greatest love, would be one of those people.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Sinful

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I'm just putting this piece out as a test. I want to feel everybody else's reactions before I decide whether or not I want to write anymore or leave it as is.
> 
> I have a rough idea where I might want it to go, which is to say some rather dark places, but I also think it stands pretty well on its own feet.
> 
> In any case, enjoy this horrible little tale in which everybody cries. :(

Her fingers threaded through sweat drenched hair, nails digging crescents into the thin skin of his scalp, desperately clinging on. He panted heavily in her ear, muttering incoherently to the tune of their hips slapping together, over and over again.

She was almost there. The muscles of her stomach had twisted themselves together delightfully, building the tension, but as she neared the edge, he pulled himself away, leaving her empty and unfulfilled as he stumbled over the precipice.

“Shit,” he panted, rolling away from her.

Hermione turned to look at him, the need for release slowly dissipating, leaving only disappointed in its wake. With one freckled arm slung across his eyes, and the other draped over his pale stomach, Ron seemed content.

She shifted her body over, carefully curling herself up next to him, but when her slender hand skimmed over the trail of fine hair along his arm, he jumped.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, pushing himself up. Leaving her alone once more. “Just - Just let me get cleaned up, yeah?”

Careful not to sound too hurt, she offered him a weak smile and a quiet, “Sure.”

He removed the thin piece of latex as quickly as possible,and yanked his boxers back on roughly, ears turning red as he hurriedly hid his manhood. As if it was something to be embarrassed about. As if she hadn’t already seen everything there was to see.

She made no such move to cover herself, instead sprawling over the empty bed, and rubbing a hand over her face. Her chest ached with unexplainable emotions. They didn’t even make sense to herself. As the minutes ticked by, her wayward hand drew a meandering path down her chest and stomach, nearing the mound between her legs.

She was half tempted to finish the job herself, but the mood had been ruined. She could hear the shower running in the small adjoining bathroom. It made her feel dirty. As if she was some disgusting thing to wash away. As if something as basic and natural as sharing herself with the person she loved was wrong.

Her eyes were beginning to sting, a few tears threatened to breach the walls she was hastily trying to build. She couldn’t lay here and cry.

Forcing herself up, Hermione snagged her wand from the nightstand and summoned her clothes. They came, still neatly folded from the chair across the room. That made her even more upset.

She dressed methodically, one article at a time, until she stood in front of the floor length mirror fully dressed. Not a hair out of place. Not a love mark to be seen. And a glassy sheen to her dark eyes.

So much for a fun lunch break.

The bathroom door clicked open then, a cloud of steam pouring into the small bedroom. “Are you leaving?” Ron asked, still hardly able to keep eye contact with her. Most of his question seemed to have been directed to the floor.

Her voice was a little shaky when she answered. “Yeah. I have to be back at the office.”

It wasn’t untrue. She did have to get back to work. But her schedule was pretty lenient. There was nothing stopping her from spending another hour here.

“Okay,” he told her. No fight. No tempting her into another round. He didn’t even move to kiss her goodbye.

Instead she was the one to take the few steps over, rising to her toes to place a soft kiss on his freckled cheek.

“See you later, then?” he asked, really looking at her for the first time since she’d arrived.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Of course.”

**o.O.o**

“What am I going to do?” she asked, head held in her hands as the tears poured down her cheeks.

Ginny rubbed slow circles on her spine. “He doesn’t mean anything by it,” she tried to reassure her, but her kind words did little to soothe her.

Hermione blinked up at her friend, tears making the world look blurry. For the last hour she had poured out her heart and soul, and still, Ginny didn’t understand.

How could she?

“I know, but it still hurts.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” she asked. “He loves you, Mione. If he knew - “

She scoffed at that. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but he still acts like its…. Sinful.”

“Well, Mione, he’s just trying to be a gentleman,” Ginny replied, but her argument sounded weak.

Ron had told her the same thing, in the beginning. It wasn’t proper for unmarried witches and wizards to fool around. That he respected her too much to soil her before her wedding. That the risk of shaming themselves and his family weren’t worth a little fun.

She’d accepted that at first. She was a big girl, and she knew how to take care of her own needs. Perhaps he’d come around as they got more serious.

But that was five years ago.

He didn’t think it was right for them to spend the night together, despite the years she’d spent staying at his house over winter and summer breaks. Not to mention the countless nights they’d spent in that tent. A weekend holiday was impossible. Moving in together was absolutely out of the question.

And all of this while Neville and Luna were travelling the world, and Harry and Ginny were playing their on again, off again tango of drama. Other classmates were getting married and having babies.

By the time he got around to buying a ring, she had one foot out the door. That was six months ago now.

She had put her foot down the moment he dropped to one knee. “I don’t want to pressure you,” she had told him, holding his face in her hands. “But I can’t live like this.”

He stammered something incoherent, and she had forged ahead, unwilling, and largely unable to stop. “I love you, Ron. I want you,” she’d breathed tearfully, “so bad it hurts. But you’ve made it clear that you don’t want me. Not right now. What if that never changes? What if we get married and aren’t compatible at all?”

“Is that all that matters to you, Hermione?” he growled back at her, wrenching his face free and standing back up. His tall frame shadowed hers, making her shrink back, just slightly. “You’re so obsessed with it!”

“No, I - “

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, swiftly cutting her off. “Of course I want you! I just refuse to use you like some common whore!”

Stung, she had retreated further, shutting down her emotions. “Wanting to be desired does not make me a whore,” she spit back, her voice icy. “Wanting to have some harmless fun and share myself with the man I love doesn’t make me a whore.”

“Ugh!” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “I never said you were! But it isn’t harmless! What if something happened? An accident?”

“That’s highly unlikely. There are pills and potions and spells! There’s a million different ways to protect against that! And even if all of those things failed, are you so disgusted my me that even the slightest of chances of having a baby scares you away?”

“What?” He blinked at her, mouth open as he floundered for more to say. “You’ve got the wrong idea about all of this!”

The tears were long gone, replaced by a fury she was quickly losing control of. “Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for several long breaths. Neither of them moved. They just stared at each other, waiting for someone to break.

It took two of his long strides for Ron to reached her. “Fine,” he growled as he grabbed her up roughly, spinning them on the spot.

They landed in his bedroom, stumbling slightly as he forced her down on the bed. Faster than she thought possible, he was on top of her.

The first kiss was painful. A clash of teeth and lips and full of punishment.

There was no time for sweet words, or lingering caresses as he parted her shirt in one swift yank. Ivory colored buttons ripped free, left to dance across the old floor boards. In the next breath, he was peeling her jeans from her thighs, baring her to the air. Her skin felt too warm, even as the gooseflesh erupted along her body.

Free of the tight pants, Ron returned to her, sliding himself into the space between her thighs. She could feel the throbbing heat of his manhood through her damp knickers, even as his placed another of those scornful kisses on her lips.

His fingertips were digging bruises into her flesh as he pulled her impossibly closer to his chest. Her own hands were busily winding a path up his stomach and chest, examining skin that was still hidden from view.

But just as quickly as he had pounced on her, he was pulling away, hastily undoing the fly of his trousers. His pants only made it as far as his knees before he was pulling her knickers out of the way.  
His cock was red and angry as he positioned it at her entrance, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke. Hermione let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion. Despite the lack of foreplay she was impossibly turned on, and her body easily accepted the onslaught.

Encased in her slick folds, Ron reeled back before thrusting into her once more. He set a harrowing pace, matching the bruising hold and biting kisses. He pounded into her over and over again, until her eyes rolled back into her skull and her whole body felt like it was on fire.

He didn’t last very long, slamming his hips against hers one final time, before shuddering his release into her. She quickly followed him over the edge, pulling him to her for one last searing kiss.

But it was like kissing a brick wall.

His body still trembling slightly, Ron stood up abruptly. The anger that at marred his face not long ago was gone, replaced by a shocked look of horror. He averted his gaze from her, and when she tried to reached out for him, he flinched.

Without saying a word, and ignoring her pleas, Ron grabbed his clothes, and darted out of the room.

Baffled by his odd behavior, she followed him, pulling the remains of her shirt together to ward off the chill. He had barred the door to the bathroom.

“Ron!” she called, banging loudly on the peeling door. “You can’t just lock yourself in there! Come back out here. We can talk this through!”

Only the sudden burst of water from the shower answered her.

After that things had only spiraled further out of control. Unable to wash the taint of her skin from his, he had emerged from the shower a scalded, shaking mess, and cried into her hair for hours.

A moment that was supposed to be special. Beautiful even, shattered beyond compare, because she was selfish enough to need.

She had deluded herself into hoping it would get better, but it never really did. The last few months had worn her down until she couldn’t hold it in any longer, leading to her eventual breakdown on Ginny’s ugly maroon couch.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Gin,” she admitted sadly. “I love him, but I can’t.”


End file.
